I couldn't believe I was doing this. That I had to go to therapy.

I went to a session after my mom died, once. I didn't ever go again cause my shit doctor told me that I just needed to get over it in fancy wording. However, I was going to try and keep an open mind with this lady. Jack said she was a good doctor and he has gotten better. Maybe she can help me make these stupid nightmares go away. I was sick of feeling so nervous and scared all the time because that thing might be hidden in Jack and come out.

When I was called in to meet the doctor, I felt my stomach churn. I don't get why I was so nervous about this, I walk in, I talk, she tells me how to get better, I leave. That's how it works right? It's not like I'm exactly a mental case. Am I?

I walked into the room they showed me and peaked my head in. A plump, blonde woman smiled at me once she saw me.

“Hello dear, come in and make yourself comfortable.” She said, and I scurried in, shutting the door behind me before deciding to take the chair instead of the couch. “So, Ember....Jack called me about you having nightmares about when he went off his medication?”
“Um, yeah...” I mumbled. She typed something before pulling away from her desk so I could see her better.
“Do you want to tell me what they're about?”
“Uh, sure.” I fiddled with my hands, and started talking quickly. “A-at first they were just kinda repeats of things that happened. But lately they're a lot...worse.”
“Can you tell me what happened?” She asked and I looked at her confused.
“Didn't Jack tell you what he did?” She shook her head.
“All I know his he went off his medication which caused him to revert back into his bi-polar disorder tenfold and he was doing drugs while abusing alcohol to cope.”
“Oh...”
“Did Jack do something to you?” She asked, and I nodded not looking at her. “Did he hurt you?” Again, I just simply nodded. “How?”

I didn't say anything, the fiddling of my hands turned into rubbing the top of one hand as I bit down on my lip. I thought she knew, I didn't want to tell her if Jack wasn't okay with it. What if I pissed him off? What if it happened again?

“Ember,” Her voice broke through my thoughts and I hesitantly looked at her. “You know, everything you say is in confidence. I'm not allowed to share it with anyone. Even Jack.”
“Well....Okay.” I mumbled and took a deep breath. “When Jack was...sick. He would hit me...or shoved me on the ground and kick me when he was pissed about something our friends said about him or if I did anything that he didn't like.”
“Jack abused you.” She said, making me flinch. That clearly was not a question and she sounded a bit put off by the fact.
“Y-yes.”
“Was it just physical?”

Fuck, why did she have to ask that? Images of the other things Jack did to me came to mind and I had to shut my eyes to try and block them out. I shook my head slowly, indicating that there was more. I heard the wheels of the chair move and opened my eyes to see her right in front of me. She opened her hands, and I slowly put mine in them.

“You don't have to share if you don't want to.” She assured.
“I just hate...thinking about it.”
“Does it make you stressed out?”

Isn't it obvious that it does? I just nodded instead of saying that.

“What about emotional abuse?” She asked, and I nodded again. I knew what emotional abuse was.
“H-he called me a whore and a bitch. Accused me of s-sleeping with h-his friend.” I admitted, feeling like I was going to cry. It's a miracle that I haven't yet. I took my hands away from hers and started messing with them again, cause fuck I just needed something to do with them.

“Did you ever think of pressing charges?” She asked, it was a serious and sudden question.
“W-what? No, of course not. H-he didn't mean to, I mean, it wasn't like... The t-thought never c-came to mind I just...just sort of, I mean.”
“Ember, dear. Calm down, it's okay.” She made a motion for me chill, but she just caught me off guard. “We're going to move on from this. Is that okay?” She asked, and I nodded. “Now, I wanna know if Jack has any idea how you felt during this.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, still a little hysteric from the charges question.
“Have you and him talked about what happened?”
“Not really.”
“Is there anything you feel like he should know? Something you did because of his actions?” She asked, and I know what she was implying.
“I've n-never hurt myself or a-anything.” I managed to settle my hands in my lap, but my voice was shaking. “I didn't e-eat a lot during t-this time t-though...”
“Deep breath, hun.” She said, and I took in a shakey one and spoke a little clearer.
“I just felt really numb and was too worried or scared to care about anything. Then there was the one time I had this panic attack and-”
“You had a panic attack?” She asked.
“Yes...”
“What had caused it?”
“Our friends had pulled me aside and tried forcing me to talk about what Jack did to me and I just got really nervous and scared cause I didn't want to risk telling them. They kept pressing for it and it got to be too much and I sort of just...freaked.”
“Has this ever happened before?” I shook my head. “Was it the one time?” I nodded.

She frowned for a second and went back to her computer. Typing something, and a few clicks here and there. I sat there patiently, wondering what she was doing. Once she was done, she looked back to me.

“Ember, I'm going give you a sheet and I want you to answer the questions with as much honesty and accuracy as you can. Okay?” I just nodded and she clicked something. “I'll be right back, I just have to go to the printer.”

When she came back she handed me the sheet and a pencil. Looking it over, it was basically a yes or no questionnaire with things like, Do you ever feel out of control? Or Do you get nervous when...

I filled it out as best as I could, getting worried over my own answers. There was a lot more yeses then I would have thought to be. I handed her the paper and she looked over it before looking at her computer again. After a couple minutes, she went back to sitting across from me, paper left on her desk.

“Okay, so I'm going to ask you a couple more questions and then tell you what I believe to be an answer to your nightmares.”
“Okay...” I said, and she nodded before speaking.
“How long as this 'not eating when stressed' thing been going on?”
“I..don't know.” I thought about it fr a second. “I remember when my mom was first diagnosed with cancer I was too worried to really eat dinner that night. When she was admitted to the hospital, I barely move from her side and skipped meals. It was worse when she died.”
“How long ago was this?”
“She died five years ago, was diagnosed years before that.”
“How often to you get nervous?”
“A lot.” I admitted.
“Do you sometimes stay up really late at night? Like periods of insomnia?”
“Not too often, but yeah...”
“Okay, well. I believe you're most likely suffering from PTSD of an abused spouse.” She stated. “And from what Jack told me, you're trying to avoid it by not believing what happened to you was because of him.” I stared at her blankly as she kept talking. “I also think that even before this, you had slight anxiety and this experience has worsened it.”
“But he was sick, doesn't that mean it doesn't count as being him?” I asked and she shook her head.
“Jack's condition make his judgment impaired and act on more aggressive impulses.”
“But...”
“I think you need to talk with him about what happened.” She said. “I suggest you two sort through everything. It will help you accept it better, and help you cope with it and move on. I also want to have more sessions with you because this isn't just going to disappear. Plus, I worry about your now higher anxiety.”
“So I do have anxiety?”
“I want to have a few more meetings and tests before I tell you that it's official.” She said and I nodded.

We scheduled another appointment for next week, and she suggested that I talk to Jack as soon as possible. She suggested trying sleeping pills if the nightmares continue or worsen in the next few days. I left the office feeling worse then when I went in.

The drive to get Jack was stressful. I wasn't sure how to bring up everything. How we were supposed to just talk about it calmly. Plus, what if that whole pressured panic attack happens? I never told Jack about that night, it was not a fun experience and I rather not think about it.

Fuck, the doctor was right. I do avoid things. I never even noticed that before. Great.

When I got there, Jack was quick to pull me into a hug. I gladly accepted it, feeling a little relieved that he was too careful about being around me. I'm sure it was hard when I jumped every time he walked in or spoke behind me. I knew how I was acting around him, I just couldn't stop it. He asked about the appointment and I suggested we headed home first. As much as I love Alex, this was something I wanted to only be between Jack and I.

Once we got home and I managed to get Bailey to calm down, Jack and I sat on the couch together. I started biting the inside of my cheek trying to figure out how to start this.

“How was it?” Jack asked, and I looked up at him and sighed.
“It was a little nerve-racking.”
“The first time can be.” He said, a small smile on his face. “What she say?”
“Well, umm...” I drew in a breath.

“She said we need to talk about what happened.”

Notes

Hey guys! Look, we're updating again! Yay.